


Burning Eyes

by EmeraldWaves



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Day 3, Fluff, Future, M/M, Memories, OtaYuri Week 2017, i kind of did both?, it's possible I messed some facts up lmfao, otayuri - Freeform, this is basically a LONG ASS drabble, this is supposed to follow canon but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9909968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaves/pseuds/EmeraldWaves
Summary: Otabek has always been captivated by Yuri Plisetsky's eyes.





	

_14 years old_

Yuri Plisetsky is the exact opposite of everything Otabek Altin is. He's dainty, graceful, blond, and he's damn good at ballet. It's not fair, Otabek thinks, that one kid could be so good at everything.

Sweat trickles down his own brow, as he tries to hold the stance, his eyebrow twitching. His muscles are so tight — he's not as flexible as some of the other boys. Really ballet warm ups have never been Otabek's thing. His face quivers, and the teacher yells at him, telling him that's not the face a dancer should wear, and Otabek is just about ready to slam his foot back to the ground and leave. He knows it’s a bad idea, and he doesn’t want to get on the Russian’s bad side. This training camp is a big deal, and he should feel honored, even if it is shameful to have been dropped down to the novice class.

He sucks in a large breath of air, keeping his foot in place, though his chest puffs out awkwardly, and his nostrils flare. This is definitely not the proper stance a dancer should have. But dammit, he's not a dancer, he's a skater, Otabek should've quit trying to make ballet work ages ago.

His gaze falls on Yuri Plisetsky from across the room. He's so damn beautiful, and from what Otabek can tell, he hasn't dropped his pose at all, not once since they started. His arms and legs move with such precision, yet he doesn't look robotic. Each movement flows into the next, his spine bending backwards as he gracefully moves back. It's impossible not to admire his technique, and Otabek can't help the small amount of jealousy he feels inside as well. This blond is good enough to be in the junior class, so why the hell is he showing everyone up in novice?

His face is currently stoic, almost creepily serene, as just a few hours earlier the young boy had been yelling at the teacher about something, Otabek hadn't been close enough to hear even though Yuri had been rather loud.

The teacher moves to Yuri and tilts his chin up a bit, adjusting where his gaze falls, and Otabek is almost insulted for him. The blond's eyebrows twitch a few times, and Otabek can tell he's annoyed. His green eyes tremble with rage, but Otabek notices it's not just anger hidden in his emerald pools. No, there seems to be a passion and strong determination. He keeps his head adjusted, not moving from his new position.

"Altin! Eyes forward!" The teacher barks out, and Otabek pulls his head around, keeping his gaze towards the mirror at the front of the classroom. Gosh he looks awkward, he looks nothing like Yuri Plisetsky and some of the other Russian classmates.

Yuri Plisetsky is a fighter, that's for sure. Otabek respects that, relates to it, though he can't say he's about to fight to be better at ballet. He wants to skate, he wants to skate his way, and while dance works for some like, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek is not one of those people.

Otabek quits ballet upon returning home to Kazakhstan.

_18 years old_

Otabek hears Yuri Plisetsky's name in passing. Apparently he's doing amazing in the junior divisions which Otabek is really not surprised to hear at all. Besides his raw talent, Yuri has an unmatched drive. Otabek saw it in his eyes that day in ballet, and he sees it again when he decides to sneak a peek at the junior division on T.V.

He should be focusing on the Senior division, Viktor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti, these are the sorts of people he will eventually have to face if he plans to make it to the Grand Prix Final. But he mentally argues Yuri Plisetsky is about to be old enough for the Senior division, so it's highly possible he'll have to face him too. Actually, if he's anything like Otabek remembers, he will _definitely_ have to skate against him.

Yuri's got the eyes of a champion, and as he steps out onto the ice, Otabek feels jealousy bubble inside of him once again. The confidence Yuri exudes, even now at such a young age, is incredible. The energy in his pose is overwhelming, and Otabek can tell the blond has something to prove.

And prove it he does. Otabek can't take his eyes off the screen, and he almost wishes he were there in person to witness it in real time, not through a screen. Yuri's movements are perfect, absolutely stunning. He falls one time, but it doesn't take away from anything. Otabek can see his eyebrow twitch, Yuri’s probably pissed at himself for making such a silly error. Otabek knows it won't matter though, his performance is so on point, and his limbs move with grace, as though he's a storm, winds whipping across the cold surface as he cuts across the ice. His chest heaving as he holds his final pose.

The imagine burns into Otabek's memory, like a flame scorching his mind, a scar he won't ever forget. Yuri Plisetsky isn't a force to be reckoned with, Otabek can see it in his movements, and his eyes.

Yuri Plisetsky wins the gold for the Junior division of the Grand Prix Final.

_19 Years Old_

"What's with you, asshole?" Yuri spits in Otabek's direction, and Otabek grunts, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

It's the first time he's actually seen Yuri since being in Barcelona, and he had been considering asking him to hang out, but in all this time, he forgot the most important thing about Yuri Plisetsky — he's got the harshest mouth, and plenty of rage to back that up.

He wants to talk to Yuri, somehow, though he's not quite sure how to do it. He doesn't care to spend time with a large group of people, and girls are always following him around, which is something Otabek _really_ doesn't want to deal with it. Yuri doesn't seem like he enjoys it much either, but there's never been a good opening to try and drag him away, and after the way Yuri snapped at Otabek, he's not sure Yuri would want to be saved by him anyway.

Otabek's about to leave everything behind, setting up his motorcycle, when he sees Yuri peeking around a corner, clearly desperate to hide from the strange women with cat ears on their heads. Otabek isn't sure what that's all about, but he is sure this is the perfect moment to try and help Yuri out for once.

"Yuri, get on," he says, handing him the other helmet. Yuri looks confused at first, but the moment he realizes Otabek is here to help, he joins him, and they ride off, ready to do some sightseeing.

Otabek confesses his jealousy, though the words are far more eloquent than that and none of his words are a lie. Otabek tells Yuri he has the eyes of a soldier, and how he's always thought so. He thought so when he watched him practicing ballet, and when he watched him skate in the Junior division. Truthfully, he's looking forward to watching him skate now. Of all the people in the competition, Otabek is scared most of Yuri.

Shit, he loves the way Yuri looks now too. His blond hair is sweeping across his face, a hint of a red on his cheeks, though Otabek can't tell if it’s because he's blushing or if the breeze is hitting his cheeks just right.

"Otabek, why did you talk to me? I'm a rival aren't I?" Yuri asks, a puzzled look on his face. A rival indeed. Yuri's not wrong. They are rivals; more than anything Otabek wants to win the championship for Kazakhstan. But if anyone else is going to win, he wants it to be Yuri.

After a handshake and some tea, it seems Yuri Plisetsky is his friend, and Otabek certainly isn't complaining.

The day of the competition arrives, and though Otabek wants to defeat all the other skaters, he's happy to have found a friend among them. Most of all, he's pleased to finally have the chance to see Yuri skate in person. He's been so curious to see it after all the times he's seen him skate on T.V. Finally, he can see him skate in person.

Yuri takes to the ice in a huff, something to do with the Yuuri from Japan, and Otabek snorts. Yuri's temper is oddly endearing — it shouldn't be, but it makes Otabek chuckle to himself. In a moment, the blond switches, as though something snaps inside of him. One moment, he's boiling with rage, like a volcano about to erupt, and the next his face is serene, calm and ready to perform a beautiful skating piece about love. It's wonderful, and slightly hilarious.

His green eyes glimmer against the beautiful ice, his blond hair swirling around his face as his lithe arms sway around his body, his movements flowing across the ice. It seems surreal, as though Yuri is floating, with absolutely no gravity holding him down.

Immediately, Otabek can't help but remember their younger days, watching Yuri in the class. Back then, Otabek had thought Yuri was perfect, and then here is now, one-upping himself once again.

Otabek can't take his eyes off of Yuri, his facial expression soft and clear, emotion pouring from his skates and limbs and face.

It's absolutely no surprise Yuri places first for the day.

The second day of the competition it seems Yuri and Otabek have created their own secret language, giving each other a thumbs-up to silently cheer one another on.

Yuri looks like the flame Otabek has always imagined him to be, wisps of pink trailing off of his skates. From the look on his face now, the way his green eyes tremble before the beginning of his music, Otabek can tell he's worked hard on this piece too, maybe harder. Yuri told him he had spent hours upon hours studying with Lilia, so it's no surprise he seems more than prepared. Yuri's always been fantastic at ballet, so Otabek isn't concerned for him.

Yuri's breathing seems heavy at first, but the moment the music begins, Yuri's gone, somewhere inside of his head he's locked into his concentration. He's intense, the eyes Otabek has come to adore so much burning brightly with his costume, as though they've changed colors. He seems angry, intense, and Otabek can swear Yuri yells out at one point. The routine is masterful, something only someone like Yuri could truly handle. Yuri's chest heaves and he falls to his knees covering his face, though Otabek thinks he should stand proudly. It’s a routine Yuri should be proud of, honored to have performed. Hell, Otabek feels honored just to have witnessed it.

Otabek knows he's lost by now. Yuri takes the gold in his first ever Senior Grand Prix.

They've only got one more night in Barcelona, the banquet to celebrate how hard they've all worked. Some people say everyone’s a winner, even though Otabek, (and everyone else) knows Yuri is the only one who gets the full glory of taking his gold medal home to Russia.

It certainly doesn't stop everyone from celebrating. Chris is already beyond drunk, trying to convince Viktor and Yuuri to drink more, but the two seem far too fixated on each other to really notice anyone else. Phichit is filming anyone who moves. But Otabek isn't really paying attention to all that.

Yuri's being crowded by everyone congratulating him. He's getting pats on the back, saying he's so young, it's so amazing he won. Otabek thinks it's amazing, but he's really not all that surprised by it. Yuri's always been talented, always been above and beyond everyone else. Of course, he won. And though Otabek is once again feeling a bit jealous, he knows Yuri deserves it.

"Beka!" Yuri calls out, finally breaking free from the crowd surrounding him. "People wouldn't stop crowding me," he groans.

"You won. It's to be expected," Otabek says.

"Yeah but I wanna enjoy the banquet too!" he snaps, folding his arms.

"Well you can now, you've got plenty of time." It hits Otabek then that they don't have plenty of time left together. In the morning he'll be flying back to Kazakhstan, and Yuri will be heading back to Russia. It almost seems unfair, after all these years, they're finally friends, and now it's about to be over. Otabek isn't sure he's ready to leave Yuri quite yet.

Yuuri's a little drunk now, and he challenges Yuri to another dance off, repeating something that happened at the banquet a year ago. Yuri looks pissed, but the moment they all start dancing, Otabek can tell Yuri's having a good time with Yuuri.

They're moving, and Yuuri's tie is around his head and he's flailing about, grabbing Viktor to dance with him.

"Beka!" Yuri waves at him wildly, "be my partner!"

"Eh?" Otabek turns, seeing Yuri directly in front of him now. He blushes, seeing Yuri's eyes so close.

"That idiot Katsudon got Viktor involved, so be my partner." He doesn't give Otabek a chance to answer, and he drags him out onto the dance floor. They're all moving now, Chris is drunkenly hollering, and Phichit is still filming them, and for a moment Otabek loses himself.

He doesn't care about the dance off, but he does care about Yuri twirling around in front of him. He spins him, and pulls him in close, their bodies rubbing together as they move about the floor. Of course, Yuuri dips Viktor and pulls him into a kiss, which makes Phichit dub them the winners of the dance off.

Otabek's dark eyes meet Yuri's and he wonders what it would be like to kiss Yuri. Inappropriate probably, but his stomach flip flops at the idea. The two pull away abruptly, both blushing.

"I...uh...had fun Beka," Yuri mutters awkwardly, heading back to the hotel elevators.

"Me too," he nods, not wanting to elaborate too much. The more he speaks on it, the harder it will be to say goodbye.

"You have my Instagram, and my phone number, and my Facebook, so you have no excuse not to keep in touch!" Yuri blurts out.

"I know," Otabek replies, a small smile on his face.

"You better!" he growls, folding his arms.

"Don't worry," Otabek replies. "I will." He awkwardly holds out his hand, giving Yuri's a shake. They linger for a moment, as though they want to hug, but neither makes the proper move to close the space between them.

"I better see you here again next year, Beka."

_23 years old_

It takes Otabek 3 years to make the Grand Prix Final again, though it isn't for lack of trying. Every year he was close, so close. One year he fell during his last program, costing him just enough points to bump him way beneath the qualifying spot. The next year, he came in 7th overall, missing the cut off for the top 6 in the Grand Prix Final.

Every year, he cursed himself for not being strong enough to make it, and he trained harder, and longer, desperate to make it the next year. He promises he won't quit until he competes against Yuri once more, and gets to witness his beautiful eyes.

Yuri Plisetsky makes it every year Otabek doesn't, placing 2nd the first year, and 1st again the next. Otabek isn't at all surprised. Yuri is a beast on the ice, a beast no one can tame. It hurts to, but Otabek watches him every year. He watches the way Yuri moves on the ice, and he knows Yuri deserves every medal he earns. Behind his passionate green eyes is diligence and hard work.

Every year, Otabek remembers Yuri's words:

_"I better see you here again next year, Beka."_

And finally, after 3 years, he's here again at the Grand Prix Final. (And Yuri was one of the first to know. After sending a text that read, 'Are you in this year or not?' Otabek replied with a simple thumbs up.)

Seeing Yuri walk in is strange. He's older now, and it's apparent. He's taller, and his blond hair is a bit longer now. His arms and legs are more muscular, and his jawline has filled out. Otabek's so busy staring at his mature friend, he doesn't notice how close Yuri has gotten.

"Took you long enough, Beka," Yuri smirks, and Otabek grins right back.

"I've been practicing," he snorts, not wanting Yuri to get the best of him. The blond smiles wider, however, and immediately pulls Otabek into a hug.

"I missed you," he whispers, and Otabek feels a shiver run down his spine, as though the cold from the ice has penetrated his skin already.

"Yeah...same," he mutters, squeezing him tightly. When he pulls away, he sees a blush on Yuri's face. His face is older, yes, but the blush is innocent, the same one he saw three years ago when they danced together.

It's not as though they haven't talked. They did keep in touch, mostly talking over various social media outlets and texting. Otabek did go to Russia for a few weeks for extra training, but both of them were so busy they were only able to get tea a few times during his stay. Seeing him now, here, ready to compete again, Otabek knows it'll be different.

"Good luck," Yuri smiles. "You're going to need it!" he yells, looking rather pleased with himself. Otabek's glad to see Yuri's appearance is the only thing that's different about his friend.

And it really is like nothing has changed between them. Otabek offers a thumbs up to Yuri before he's about to start his short program, and Yuri does the same for him. Their costumes are different, and the music has changed. Their programs are harder, since they've both improved, but they are not different people. Otabek doesn't need to ask Yuri to know they both want to win as much as the other. Otabek knows he'll have to retire soon, even if he wants to bring a medal home to his country, even if he wants to skate with Yuri forever. Yuri's eyes still burn with his passion, he has a podium to defend after all.

And defend it he does. After their free programs, it's clear to Otabek Yuri will place once again. He beats his own damn record, and there's a tiny part of Otabek that hates Yuri for being so damn talented. But oh does he adore him too, can't take his eyes off of him.

Yuri places first, for the second year in a row, and this time Otabek comes in third, happy to at least take a Grand Prix medal home to Kazakhstan after all these years of training. He wishes it were gold, but he can't fault himself for losing to someone like Yuri Plisetsky.

"Congratulations," Otabek whispers to Yuri, hugging him as they step down off the podium. "It's seems you've won another."

"'Course! I'll never give up this spot!" he laughs.

"I don't doubt it," Otabek sighs, lingering in their hug. He would've stayed that close to him forever if he could've.

"Uh, congrats to you too," Yuri compliments. "Hell, I kind of think you deserved to be second," Yuri grumbles, glaring at the young Korean boy who took second place.

"I'm happy to bring any medal home to my country," Otabek smiles, patting Yuri's shoulders. "No need to make such a face." Though Otabek thinks Yuri is cute when he's angry. Actually he enjoys all of Yuri's faces, even when he looks like a disgruntled teenager.

The scene at the banquet is almost exactly the same as Otabek remembers it from three years ago. Drinking, lots of drinking, and Yuri's being crowded by a large group of people. This time Otabek has to deal with a few people himself. Talking about his success is nice, but he'd much rather be dancing with Yuri on the dance floor again. But he wonders if anything like that will start, since there's no drunken Yuuri Katsuki to kick things off.

And as nice as dancing sounds, Otabek would much rather whisk Yuri out onto the terrace, and talk to him alone, away from all these people. As though he's psychic, from across the room, Yuri looks at Otabek desperately. Otabek is used to seeing Yuri's green eyes look desperate but this is something completely different.

Stepping away from the crowd, Otabek makes his way towards the table and grabs two glasses of champagne. He stands by the crowd around Yuri, and holds up one of the glasses. "Ah Yuri, you gonna come drink this or not?" he asks, waving his hand.

"Yeah! Okay!" he yells loudly and steps away from the large group of people, following Otabek out onto the main patio.

It's warm enough in Italy that a summer breeze blows around Yuri's hair, and he tucks it back behind his ear. There isn't a cloud in the sky, and his sparkling green eyes match the stars in the twinkling moonlight, as they reflect off the liquid in the champagne glass. His hand trembles, holding the small glass and Otabek notices Yuri bite on his lip.

"Come train in Russia with me!" he bursts out, turning to face Otabek.

"...Eh? What?" Otabek blinks, completely taken off guard. Train? In Russia? He's not even sure if he will continue skating competitively after this year. "You want me to train in Russia?"

Yuri's nose wrinkles up, and he leans up towards Otabek. "You better not be considering retiring! You have at least three more years of competing in you, and if you come to Russia we can train together!"

Otabek is stunned, and he can't find the words to speak. Yuri wants to train with him? He's so damn cute right now, looking all angry. His green eyes flare up with the determination Otabek has come to love. There's no way he can say no to that. Of course Almaty is his home, but there's a part of him that's wanted to chase this for years. He wants to be with Yuri, and be friends, be rinkmates, be close to him.

"Look I know you love Kazakhstan, but you'd do awesome training with me, and then I wouldn't have to miss you for three freaking years-"

Before Yuri can continue his speech, Otabek leans forward, and cups Yuri's cheeks pulling their lips together. Yuri is as frozen as ice at first, his body seizing up a bit, but the moment he starts to kiss back, it's like the Yuri Otabek has known all along. His lips press hard against Otabek's and his arms wrap around his neck, keeping him close. Otabek nibbles on Yuri's lower lip, their noses pulling in harsh breaths.

"I'll do it," Otabek whispers. "I'll train with you."

Yuri's face is completely flushed, but as he takes a deep breath, he smiles, giving Otabek a thumbs up. "Good."

Otabek returns the gesture. He's not sure what the future holds, but if he's with Yuri, he's sure it'll be an adventure, one Otabek is more than happy to embark on.

**Author's Note:**

> SO I wanted to do at least ONE fic for OtaYuri week, and I got lucky and I had a little extra time to write this fic! Thanks to Adriana for reading this for me! I know I need to update my chaptered fic, and the next chapter is started! It'll be finished when I'm back from my trip, but for now, here's a weird one shot for Day 3! It's kind of a weird mix of the Memories prompt and Future Prompt!
> 
> [emeraldwaves](http://emeraldwaves.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr or [musickazoo](https://twitter.com/musickazoo) is my twitter if you wanna hang out or chat and be friends :D


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